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Nevertheless, with the future of the Netherworld Scripture uncertain, he was determined to learn this martial art for self-defense.

Seeing that the old Daoist didn’t respond, Qin Sang found it strange and asked, "Master, do you not want Ming Yue to learn martial arts?"

"He’s been practicing with you for two months now. Have I ever stopped you?"

The old Daoist stopped, turned around, and asked in return. He sat down on a green stone by the roadside, took a sip of water, and gazed at the vast sky. Sighing, he said, "This year’s snow has come much earlier than in previous years. In these troubled times, natural disasters and man-made calamities follow one after another, and the future is unpredictable. If Ming Yue has a martial art to protect himself, it’s a good thing."

Qin Sang sat down beside him and chuckled. "What are you afraid of? The Qingyang Temple isn’t some ancestral family business. Even if the Great Sui Kingdom falls into chaos, at worst, you can pack your bags and take refuge in another country. With the skills you’ve passed on to Ming Yue, he’ll be able to make a living wherever he goes."

After mingling with a few traveling merchants, Qin Sang learned that this world was vast. South of the Great Sui Kingdom, there were a dozen or so small kingdoms like the Ning Kingdom, and beyond that lay boundless territories.

To the north of the Great Sui Kingdom was a large kingdom called the Heng Kingdom, said to have vast lands within its borders. Compared to the Heng Kingdom, the Great Sui Kingdom was merely a small nation.

Beyond the Heng Kingdom, it was rumored, lay an even more powerful nation.

Ordinary people, traveling from south to north or from east to west, could not reach the boundaries of this world in their lifetime.

Qin Sang also helped gather herbs, and the old and young duo worked tirelessly, filling a basket by the end of the afternoon. As night fell, they found a cave to rest in and built a fire to cook.

Although he had temporarily set aside his thoughts of seeking immortality, every time they came across a cave or a spring while gathering herbs, Qin Sang couldn’t help but take a look.

The old Daoist, helpless, said, "You’re still not giving up. I’ve already told you, I’ve explored all the peaks within a hundred li. I’ve stayed in every cave on these mountains, and I’ve never encountered any immortals. I’ve seen plenty of corpses left by those seeking immortality, though, and even personally buried a few."

Qin Sang could only give an embarrassed smile as he flipped the cornbread roasting over the fire. Seeing the old Daoist sitting cross-legged nearby, eyes closed and motionless for a long time, a sudden thought struck him. Has Daoist Jixin already reached a state of inner tranquility?

A living example was right before his eyes, yet he hadn’t noticed it all this time. He felt utterly blind.

Regretting his oversight, Qin Sang hurriedly asked, "Master, how did you achieve such a state of calmness and serenity?"

Daoist Jixin, still with his eyes closed, asked, "You’ve read so many Daoist scriptures, how much do you remember?"

Qin Sang felt ashamed. His heart was set on the path of immortality, and he looked down on the scriptures of ordinary Daoists. He had only flipped through them haphazardly to learn some characters and had never truly read them thoroughly.

"Let’s eat first."

The old Daoist made no further comment and picked up a cornbread, chewing it slowly.

Qin Sang, anxious, watched him closely.

The old Daoist glanced at him. "Calm your mind, calm your breath. Practicing calligraphy, eating—these too are forms of cultivation."

Qin Sang forced himself to suppress his inner restlessness and finished his meal, noticing that his mind had indeed become much calmer.

After washing up, Daoist Jixin finally spoke, "Do you still remember the Scripture of Tranquility?"

Qin Sang quickly nodded. "I remember part of it."

"Recite it with me... ‘When one observes the heart inwardly, the heart becomes heartless; when one observes the form outwardly, the form becomes formless; when one observes things from afar, things become nothing...’"

The voices of the old and young reciting the scripture echoed in the cave. After reciting the Scripture of Tranquility once, Qin Sang opened his eyes, about to speak, but saw the old Daoist immediately start reciting it a second time, so he hurriedly joined in.

After repeating the Scripture of Tranquility several times, Qin Sang seemed to have gained some insight. He sat in a daze for a while, then stood up and made a deep bow to the old Daoist. "Master, may I join you in your evening ritual from now on?"

Daoist Jixin smiled. "What does it matter to me whether you recite the scripture or not?"

That night, with the old Daoist sleeping nearby, Qin Sang refrained from practicing the Netherworld Scripture. Yet, he felt an unusual excitement, as if he had finally found the right path.

…

After that, Qin Sang began waking up early and staying up late every day, joining the old Daoist and Ming Yue in their morning and evening rituals. Before he knew it, the end of the year was approaching.

This was the first New Year Qin Sang would spend in this world, and he had many feelings about it, though there was no one with whom he could share them.

The temple’s New Year celebrations were rather ordinary, with the only noteworthy event being when Daoist Jixin brought out a portrait of his master, Wandering Man, to pay homage. In the painting, Qin Sang saw an old Daoist with an even more ethereal and otherworldly appearance.

Although refugees flooded in like a tide, the City of Three Witches remained as lively as ever. Qin Sang followed the old Daoist and his disciple into the city to join in the festivities.

Qin Sang had yet to cultivate that qi, but his two months of persistence were not without progress. His ability to enter a meditative state had greatly improved, and sometimes he unknowingly meditated throughout the entire night. The next day, instead of feeling fatigued, he would feel refreshed and clear-headed, which greatly boosted his confidence.

The City of Three Witches was a major thoroughfare from north to south, with thriving trade routes and numerous escort agencies.

The Wuwei Escort Agency wasn’t the largest in the City of Three Witches, but it had an excellent reputation. After much inquiry, Qin Sang learned that the Wuwei Escort Agency had a senior escort named Yang Zhen, who was highly skilled in martial arts and known for his integrity. The disciples he trained were all exceptional.

As the year drew to a close, most of the escorts who had been on assignments had returned to the city. Yang Zhen had just returned from a journey to the capital, which had taken him over three months. Upon hearing the news, Qin Sang immediately bought some gifts and went to visit him.

Fifty taels of silver for the Tiger Subduing Long Fist was considered a high price among the various escort agencies in the City of Three Witches. After receiving the payment, the accountant at the Wuwei Escort Agency instructed an attendant to take Qin Sang to see Yang Zhen.

Following the attendant into a small courtyard, Qin Sang saw that there were already dozens of young men waiting there. He quietly asked the attendant, "Are they all disciples of Escort Leader Yang?"

The attendant nodded and replied, "Escort Leader Yang is highly skilled and well-known, and he never holds back when teaching his disciples. If someone shows enough talent, they might even be accepted as a formal disciple. There are many in the city who want to learn martial arts under him. You will be learning with them from now on. Escort Leader Yang is currently speaking with the head escort leader. Please wait in the courtyard for a moment while I present your name card and gifts."

The attendant entered the inner hall, and Qin Sang stood in the courtyard, observing Yang Zhen\'s disciples. He noticed that the dozens of young men were grouped into several circles.

Among them were about a dozen youths dressed in identical, tight-fitting cotton garments with waist belts and leg bindings. They had particularly sturdy physiques, and from their playful sparring, it was clear that they had a solid foundation—these were likely the formal disciples the attendant had mentioned earlier.

There were also some wealthy young men, dressed in luxurious clothes, who seemed to be here just to pass the time, their steps light and unsteady.

And there were those who stood alone in the corners, looking very reserved—probably newcomers like himself who had just been accepted as disciples.

After thinking for a moment, Qin Sang walked over to a corner and quietly waited.

Not long after, the central door opened wide, and a large man stepped out. The young men in the courtyard quickly stopped their banter and greeted their master loudly.

Seeing Yang Zhen in person, Qin Sang immediately felt a strong sense of pressure emanating from him.

This man was about fifty years old, sporting a beard and dressed in the Wuwei Escort Agency\'s martial attire. He was tall and towering, at least a head taller than Qin Sang, and was the most imposing person Qin Sang had encountered in this life.

Even Bai Jianglan’s men, who were all robust, were a size smaller than Yang Zhen.